I still didn't know what to expect following the deputy into the jail. I was with four other people, all in for DUIs serving between 1 and 4 days. We filed into the main lobby to fill out a jail intake medical questionnaire and get our mug shots taken. (I'll post them when the come online, don't you worry) It took every bit of restraint I had not to put the following answers to the following questions:

Q: Any Allergies?

A: Jail, Semen.

Q: Do you have a special diet?

A: Lobster, only.

Q: Have you ever thought about suicide?

A: Not yet, we'll play it by ear.

Q: Has anyone in your family ever committed suicide?

A: Not successfully.

Q: Are you pregnant?

A: Maybe, have been missing period for a while.

Q: Do you have any female problems?

A: They won't date me.

While we were waiting for the clerk to input our information, a Detention Officer and inmate walked into the room. Our clerk asked how he was doing, and the officer replied, "You know... Another day another dollar." The inmate goes, "They only pay you a dollar a day? That sucks!" and we all had a good laugh at the officer. After we finished the questionnaire and the mugshots, we got our Jail ID and were taken into the first holding cell.

There were about six other people in there, and we all got to know each other pretty well, except for the two Mexicans because of obvious language barriers. We broke the ice with the typical "Who blew the highest?" and then spent the next two hours bullshitting while a Detention Officer pulled us out of the cell one by one to take our fingerprints. The four friends I made will be nicknamed Scribbles, Meth Breath, Talkalot, and McFatterson.

Scribbles, when he stopped snoring on the floor and joined our dialog, was serving three years for forgery, and McFatterson had violated his probation for doing yard work drunk. Talkalot and Meth Breath both had DUI's. When it was time to transport us to the next part of the prison complex, they pulled us out of the cell and made us line up against the wall and "spread 'em" as they pulled out a huge box of chains.

First they chained each of our legs together with a chain and padlocks, and then they had us turn around and handcuffed our hands together, and then handcuffed us to a partner. I looked at how he had chained us together, and then looked up at my partner. "Hey, have you seen Gladiator? I don't know what's behind those gates (pointing towards the jail door we were facing), but we have a better chance of surviving if we stick together." He laughed right in my face, and that's when I nicknamed him Meth Breath.

All of the handcuffs were pink, and I think that was supposed to emasculate us, but to me it just turned the whole thing into a joke. The jailer led us down the hall through the door and up onto a bus. Let me tell you, getting onto a bus (even walking for that matter) when your legs are chained together unnaturally close and your hands are cuffed to a guy next to you, is no cakewalk. At one point I almost planted my face in my partner's ass when he tugged a little too hard to help me up the steps.

If you've ever seen the movie Con Air with Nicolas Cage, the plane they got onto was exactly like our bus. There was the driver, and then a lockable gate behind him, then eight plastic-walled deadbolted cells (four per side), and then another lockable gate, and normal seats. After we filed on, and went to the back, they locked the gate behind us and filed actual felons into their cubicles. The one nearest us told us that he was looking at ten years minimum for seven felonies, including assault with a deadly weapon and kidnapping. "And how'd that work out for you? ...Just playin'," asked Talkalot. He turned around to me with a smile and hand blocking the inmate from seeing what he said, "Like he's going to remember that in ten years."

The bus took us to another holding cell, which so far has been the worst part of the whole experience. Our tank was 6 cinder blocks by 8 cinder blocks, with one corner of the room taken up by the toilet. There were 14 of us in there, 15 if you count McFatty's theoretical volume, for four hours. The only airhole was in the door and about the size of a large brick, and did nothing. It go so hot in that little room that after the first two hours we were all dripping sweat from our faces. I had worn deodorant, and it turns out I was entirely overdressed. It was so bad that we all couldn't wait to get outside in the 100 degree heat for the rest of the day.

Finally, they let us out of our cell. They paired us off again to make the walk over to the tents, and got even more creative with the chaining. This time, we had actual ankle cuffs. For the twist, they cuffed one of my ankles to one of my partner's ankles, to turn our walk into a veritable three legged race. If you've ever been in handcuffs, you know how uncomfortable they are. Ankle cuffs are a whole other level. Every time we stumbled the ankle cuffs would cut into my leg, so we got real good, real quick. I am confident that me and my Mexican buddy would dominate this event at any company picnic. We were creating such a gap from the group behind us, in fact, that we had to go to the back of the line.

The further you get into Tent City, the more of an asshole everyone becomes. You could tell how much of a prick one of the officers that marched us over to the tents was by how many G.I. Joe accessories he was wearing: Unnecessary camo hat (where the fuck does he need to blend in?), gloves, sunglasses (inside), radio earpiece which he kept putting his finger to like someone was talking in it, tazer in a leg holster as opposed to on the belt, and driving in a golf cart. He kept yelling at us until one of his superior officers announced over the loud speaker, "Officer XXX, I'd like a large ice tea with extra fruit and three sweet and lows." Our officer put his finger to his ear and quietly said, "10-4. Will comply." We all started laughing at him and he yelled at us to "MOVE! MOVE!" People were falling down in these 3 legged race cuffs and laughing while grabbing their ankles in pain because it was so ridiculous, it felt more like some tough love reality show than actual jail. Well, except no reality show could field a World Cup soccer team.

Finally we reached the tents. The officers searching us gave pretty lousy hand jobs. I looked at the guy next to me and silently mouthed "Oooooooh yeeeeeeaaaah" as I rolled my eyes back in delight and smiled. After they searched the whole line, we moved into Tent City. We just kind of sat in an empty tent quietly not knowing what to do. "So... when do we start fighting and raping each other?" I asked. Scribbles laughed. "That shit doesn't go on in this part." Music to my ears.

Finally they called the new arrivals up to get our pink sheets, tiny blankets, and washcloths (towels), and gave us our bunk assignments. I skipped "chow" and instead ate dinner out of the vending machine, and then went to sleep using my Fluid Mechanics book and washcloth as a pillow.